As the recreational boating season hurries to a close here in the Northeast, my ideas of a summer spent at least part of the time afloat on Cerberus slip away.

One of the indignities of getting older is having hair that will no longer express your personality in a way that adequately represents who you think you are, deep down. Our hair betrays us with age.

Remembering the first time I came to the East End 30 years ago also rekindles thoughts of the skyline of India, and my home country’s independence.